Density
by Xelan
Summary: I believe Ron is fairly dense. How dense, you may ask? Well, let's explore that. Also, Hermione is well know for her hugs. What if she was as enthusiastic with kisses? Let's explore that. Actually, let's explore both those topics at the same time. H/Hr


Density (a.k.a. Kissing)

A/N: Thanks to the good folks of Seel'vor's group. In particular, thanks Ralph for help and some parts I incorporated into the story. Additional thanks to Runecutter and alix33 for typo hunting.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Oh Hermione, don't look so uncomfortable. Gran Genevive always kisses the grandchildren. Honestly, you don't squirm like that when your father and I kiss you."

"But muuumm, it's different with her!"

"Whatever do you mean, dear? "

"You're my mum and dad! She's- she's..."

"-Family too, Dear. She's your grandmum, your father's mother."

Little Hermione looked thoughtful. "So it's all right to kiss someone so long as they're family?"

"On the cheek, yes. Friendly kisses only, but sometimes Grandmum kisses can be a bit wetter than most. Hazard of being related, I suppose."

Hermione was biting her lower lip again as she considered this new and strange information. She always looked extra adorable when she did that and though it was a bad habit, Emma couldn't bring herself to tell her daughter not to do it anymore. _Besides,_ she mused, _she'll probably grow out of it on her own even if I don't say anything._

"Now, smile for Gran Genevive. She doesn't get to see you very often."

"Yes, Mum."

%%%%%%%%

Molly Weasley stood by the side of the Hogwarts Express watching the last minute goodbyes. Her daughter Ginny, the baby of the family, was still hiding behind her and using her mum's coat as a shield. She let out a sigh and stroked her youngest's head. "He doesn't have any family, the poor dear. Though perhaps he might make a good match for you, little one..." She bent down to wrap her daughter in a tight hug. It was only after Ginny let out a soft, strangled squeak that she knew she'd gone too far again.

Unnoticed by Molly, Ginny hadn't been the only one listening to her. Sitting at the open window on the other side of the glass was future first year, Hermione Granger.

_No family? No Mum or Dad to give you hugs or talk to you when you're feeling lonely. That's... that's just NOT acceptable!_

And so, the bushy haired, young witch set off down the train to look for the boy with the messy dark hair and green eyes she'd noticed talking with the redheads.

As the door shut behind her, a pudgy boy set his toad back down. "Sorry to have woken you, Trevor. Looks like I won't need you as an excuse to talk to her after all."

%%%%%%%%%%

The door slid open and a thin, pale, freckled face poked its way into the carriage. "Can I sit with you? All the other—eep!" The redhead rapidly withdrew and the door slid shut and clicked softly closed.

Hermione released Harry from the bone crushing hug she'd enveloped him in. "Did you hear something?"

Harry, his arms still wrapped around her, at first involuntarily but now happy to be there, squeezed her back and marveled at how nice it was to hug someone. He'd seen it done before but that was always for _other_ people. Until now he'd been _the freak, the orphan, or Boy_ as his uncle liked to refer to him. Amazed, but still quite shocked.

%%%%%%%%%%

"Harry?" Hermione asked, turning her gaze from her book that rested on her lap to rest on the face of the boy sitting right behind her.

"hmm?" asked Harry as he felt Hermione shift between his legs. He was sitting on a couch, Hermione was sitting between his legs and he had one armed wrapped around her and the other helping to steady the large textbook resting on her lap.

"Do you ever wonder what it would be like to kiss someone?"

"A kiss?" Harry asked, confused.

"Yes. A kiss."

"But we already kiss all of the time." Harry protested, then bussed her cheek. "See?"

"Yes, but what I meant was... _this_."

A few moments later, Harry managed a strangled, "Wow."

Hermione was able to produce an eloquent single nod.

They both wondered for a moment how their arms got wrapped around each other in such intimate positions, but only for a moment. After the moment had passed they were kissing again and rather than wondering how their hands got there, they merely appreciated the fact that they were there, and that they didn't have to go through any awkward moments to get their arms and hands exactly where they currently were. All in all, they thought the entire thing was brilliant.

%%%%%%%%

"Well, strictly speaking, no, we haven't been dating. In fact, we just—"

But she was cut off as Ron shouted, "AHA!" and whirled around to the gathered students and began yelling much louder than necessary, "You hear that every one? They HAVEN'T been dating. Obviously, we've been tricked by lies and gossip. I say we go and teach certain people a lesson about telling the truth!

Resounding cheers of 'yeah!' spread through the crowd. Soon the angry mob, because there was no other way to describe them, was marching away with Ron at the front. A stunned Harry and Hermione were left behind, too amazed at what had just transpired to even move.

After the amazement passed, Hermione's superbly efficient brain began to process again and the last conscious thought she had resumed where it had left off. "—decided a moment ago that we would consider any and all future trips to Hogsmeade a 'date' although we hadn't yet discussed whether previous trips together to intimate places counts as previous dating experience so at this point in time I would definitely say 'no, we haven't been dating, but we certainly intend to from this point on.'"

%%%%%%%%%%%

"Lookin' pretty hot tonight, Herms," He leered out of habit. "Got a hot date?" He asked half sarcastically, half seriously. She was always going to be the bucktoothed, frizzy-haired little know-it-all he grew up with but it was times like this when he seriously wondered if she might be worth chasing... or at least good for a roll or two in the hay.

Hermione checked her reflection in the hall mirror one more time. She was wearing a little black dress, red lipstick, and black pumps. Her chestnut brown hair was styled to fall around her head in cascades of kinky curls. To describe her in one word, she was _HOT_. "Uh huh. 8 o'clock."

Ron sat up and almost spat out his butter beer. "What!? You've got a date? With who? You haven't dated anybody since you dated Viktor Crumby back in fourth year!"

"Ronald Weasley! His name is Viktor Krum and I'll thank you to remember that I _DIDN'T _date him. I merely promised him my first dance. I went to the ball with—"

"I know, I know. You want to the ball alone - Merlin's beard, I was _THERE_! You don't have to keep reminding me."

"I'd stop reminding you if you'd remember it right. I didn't go to the ball alone. I went to the ball with Harry. And another thing—"

"—Harry doesn't count—"

"And another thing, I've gone on plenty of dates since fourth year," she stubbornly insisted.

"Like the time you and Harry went to that F1 thingy you mentioned..."

"That was three weeks ago."

"Or the time you and Harry used that Muggle Chunnel thingy to go to that fancy shmancy French joint in Par-Ris."

"It's pronounced Pare-Is or as the French say it 'Paree'. And yes, that was for our anniversary."

"Anniversary? Anniversary of what?"

Hermione couldn't help but roll her eyes. Yes, she had promised Harry she would try to be nice to Ron… what with his obvious mental shortcomings, but sometimes he was just so very slow and so very dense. "Ron, it was our fourth anniversary since we got together."

This caused Ron to pause his perusal of the Muggle Funny Papers. "Fourth? But you've known Harry for Eight years. How can this be your fourth anniversary if you've known him for eight years? And while I'm on the subject, how come I wasn't invited as part of your little celebration, eh? We all met at exactly the same time on the Hogwarts Express back at the start of first year, so why am I not welcome?"

Ron looked particularly querulous and Hermione didn't fancy having another go at trying to drive stakes of reality into Ron's depleted uranium skull of denseness. His patronus was so well chosen... just like a bull dog, gets its teeth into something and it will never let go. She sighed, there was really no sense in making the attempt again tonight, especially as attempting to penetrate that impervious skull would just upset her, potentially ruin her and Harry's anniversary and require at least one bottle of champagne and a full body massage from Harry to repair her mood (well, maybe just the massage). Hermione smiled at the thought. _And besides_, she mused, _he probably wouldn't catch a clue anyway._ _Probably best to either humor or distract him__,_ she decided.

"Well? I'm waiting for an explanation, Herms."

Hermione gritted her teeth for half a moment. How she hated that nickname. Unfortunately for her and fortunately for Ron, she'd resolved not to use any particularly strong spells before her date with Harry because it tended to make her hair frizz. Ron would get off easy this time it seemed.

Putting on her most credible face she said, "Why Ronald..." he flinched when she called him that. He'd confided to Harry that he always felt like he'd done something wrong whenever anyone called him that. And then he would mutter something about Mum issues and then toddle off for a couple of drinks." Unfortunately, he had a bottle of Ogden's finest right beside his chair. Ron took a swig and then belched some flame.

"I was talking to you about my anniversary dinner night two weeks ago over dinner. Both you and Harry were sitting at the dining room table and I distinctly recall because I made mushroom soup again and for the first time in recorded memory you actually tried some."

Ron scratched his head in confusion. He remembered the soup, but he didn't remember any discussion about any kind of anniversary dinner. He remember asking for seconds and then thirds on the soup and maybe... just maybe remembered Harry and Hermione having longish sort of conversation. They'd talked, laughed, broke into a spontaneous little dance number that involved cheek to cheek contact and lots of twirling, but he didn't remember any sort of talk about anniversaries. Oh and Hermione had kissed Harry, but that wasn't anything special. Hermione and Harry had been exchanging friendly kisses since they were in fourth year. It didn't mean anything. Hmm... he'd have to think about this some more.

Hermione had that stern sort of look on her face again. "Ronald Bilius Weasley. You had better not be planning to tell me that you don't remember. I made it a condition that if you would have to actually pay attention if you wanted any of my mushroom soup after you acted so deplorably during the Horcrux hunt. You promised that you would and I even ended up giving you and extra helping of soup not once but twice!

Ron rolled his eyes. "All right, all right. Yes, of course I remember you mentioning about the dinner. Just don't get your knickers in a twist. Sheesh!"

Hermione let out a dainty little snort for a second, almost as if she were laughing at a private joke. "I wouldn't worry too much about that happening Ron."

Harry apparated almost silently to the foot of the stairs, presumably from his bedroom. "Hey gorgeous! Ready for a candlelit supper in a four star French Restaurant, dancing, and a moonlit walk on a white sand beach?"

Hermione didn't deign that question with a verbal response, she merely acted like a Harry-Seeking missile and wrapped her arms around his neck and brought her lips to his. Cradling her in his arms and swinging her around lightly, Harry deepened the kiss.

Ron just rolled his eyes and tried to ignore them in favor of the funny Muggle drawings. He wished his friends weren't so bloody affectionate with each other. Merlin only knew how many potentially marriage worthy opportunities they missed because they were so touchy feely with each other.

%%%%%%%%%%%

Harry leaned over to Hermione and whispered out of the corner of his mouth. "I thought we agreed that we'd send out the invitations starting at the end of February and not later than March 1st?"

Hermione tilted her head and whispered back. "We DID decide that, and I DID send out the invitations. In fact, we've already received replies from everyone except Ron."

Harry turned to face her with a quirked eyebrow. "Lost in the mail?"

Rolling her eyes in return, Hermione snorted, "I hand delivered it the morning before I gave the rest to Hedwig. Technically, he got his before EVERYONE else."

Harry had crossed his arms and was nodding his head knowingly. "Yeah, that fits. He's the laziest guy to come out of Gryffindor in 3 decades according to McGongall."

Hermione was palming her face. "And so naturally, he finally got around to opening it on April 1st..."

%%%%%%%%%%%%

"Ron! What are you doing here dressed like that!? This is my wedding!"

"Aww... come off it, Harry. Couldn't be more easy to read if you were a Hufflepuff. I mean the wedding invite was really ripper, and this huge fake wedding ceremony look really authentic and all... by the way, how did you get this many people to go along with this prank? Anyhow, I figure there's gotta be something I'll really enjoy at the end of all this to make up for how huge the prank is and I says to me self, I says 'He's gonna have a huge Quidditch party after the jokes over." Naturally, I thought I'd save time and wear my Quidditch stuff from the get go. Less work for me and loads more fun!"

-Stupefy!-

-Mobilicorpus!-

"That's it! I refuse to get married with him standing there tracking mud over the carpet I'll be walking down in a few moments!"

"Hermione!?"

"Doesn't count. I'm underneath an invisibility cloak. I'm taking no chances with this wedding getting stopped. I've got wards up for everything from Dark Lord wannabees to living, dead, and undead varieties of pirates and even ninjas. He's the only thing I couldn't ward against; however, upsetting the bride is an ejectable offense – any objections?

"Would it matter if I had any?"

"Not if you wanted to spend your honeymoon with me, it wouldn't."

"Ah, I thought not. Carry on!" Harry turned to his best man. "Neville, get the wedding march going in five!"

XXXXXXXXXXX

OMAKE

By Me (what I originally intended for the kissing scene, but I decided to go with RalphS' advice.)

Harry seemed to choke on his tongue for a moment. This was simultaneously both exciting and abso-bloody-lutely terrifying. Yes, he'd had thoughts about snogging. And perhaps under strict duress, he might admit the only one he'd be comfortable contemplating snogging was Hermione, but what terrified him was that this was the same question he'd been contemplating asking her for over a week. Now that she'd asked him first, he had absolutely no idea what to say.

Fortunately for Harry, Hermione was very good at reading Harry Potter Body Language. In fact, she was probably the most fluent reader in all the world, and in her studied opinion, he intended to say yes in words but those words hadn't made it out of his mouth yet. She decided to help them along by pressing her lips to his and sucking a bit...

Several, several moments later...

"Wow..."

"Wow, indeed."

"I want to do that again."

"Oh good, I'm glad we're on the same page."

"You and your book metaphors, come here you."

"Why, Mister Potter, I thought you'd never ask."


End file.
